


Playing it Close to the Vest

by thecarlysutra



Category: Thunderheart (1992)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:49:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecarlysutra/pseuds/thecarlysutra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SUMMARY: Ray cooks. Things get out of hand.<br/>AUTHOR’S NOTES: Written for writers_choice prompt #440 <i>bake</i> and <a href="http://derangedfangirl.livejournal.com/28433.html?thread=160529#t160529">this prompt</a> from derangedfangirl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing it Close to the Vest

  
The important stuff, they’d figured out right away, Crow Horse thought. That’s what had drawn them to each other—things like knowing Ray was a good man, that he’d stand up for what was right, that he’d follow his sword to death if that’s what it took. That he listened to people even if they didn’t have some fancy DC pedigree, that he had faith.

The other stuff, Crow Horse supposed, they’d pick up along the way. Ray had left his life out east to give being with Crow Horse a shot, and neither of them quit easy, which meant they had plenty of time. The thing with Ray, though, was that he had worked undercover a long time. Ray didn’t talk about it much, but when he’d first said something to Crow Horse about it, Crow Horse had thought it strange, that Ray was able to just pick up and abandon his life and be someone else for a while. It had worried him; what kind of person could just live rootless like that? And maybe it was that Ray had done the job so long and it had become habit, or maybe it was some temperament thing that had made him good at his job in the first place, but Ray had a way of hiding in plain sight. It wasn’t that he meant to keep things from Crow Horse, really; it’s not like he lied. It was just that he played things close to the vest.

Which meant that sometimes, things with Ray came right out of nowhere. Crow Horse had seen a lot, and he didn’t rattle easy, but damn it if Ray didn’t surprise the hell out of him sometimes.

Ray had spent the day in Rapid City, liaising on a gun trafficking case. He was home when Crow Horse got home from minding speed traps all day. Crow Horse got one foot in the door and stopped; the whole house was warm and filled with such a thick, savory aroma that Crow Horse’s mouth watered. He finally snapped out of it, shut the door behind him, and went to see what Ray was up to in the kitchen. He was stirring a small saucepan full of dark liquid, and there was some white powder on his face. Crow Horse, grinning, wiped the flour off with the pad of his thumb, and gave Ray a kiss. He put his arms around Ray’s middle, and Ray leaned back a little, his back to Crow Horse’s chest.

“Whatcha makin’ there?”

“Chocolate sauce.”

“You know, they sell that stuff in bottles, Ray.”

“It tastes better when you make it yourself.”

Crow Horse pressed a kiss to Ray’s neck. “I didn’t know you had no fancy chef skills, _kola_.”

Ray rolled his eyes. “I can follow a recipe is all. It’s actually really easy.”

“Hmm. We havin’ chocolate sauce for dinner, then? Braised duck with fine chocolate sauce?”

Ray chuckled. “No, it’s for dessert. I went to the market while I was in Rapid City, and they had fresh pears and blackberries, and I thought it would be nice. I cut up the fruit, and we’ll pour the chocolate over it.”

Crow Horse went to stick his finger in Ray’s concoction, swipe a little taste, but Ray batted his hand away.

“Don’t; it’s hot.”

Crow Horse gave him a little squeeze. “So are you.”

“I’m also making supper; the market had new potatoes and some nice salmon.”

“Oh,” Crow Horse said, falsely upbeat. “You know how I love a good fish. All full of . . . vitamins and things.”

Ray let him pout a minute before adding: “I bought you a steak.”

Crow Horse smiled, and kissed Ray again. “Well, all right.”

They ate supper, and it was good.

“I oughta let you do the shoppin’ in Rapid more often,” Crow Horse said, leaning back in his chair while Ray collected the dishes.

Ray rolled his eyes. He put the plates in the sink and went to finish dessert. After the chocolate sauce had melted to a good consistency, he’d put it in a small squeeze bottle—just like they had it at the store, Crow Horse had pointed out, earning another lecture about the value of making things from scratch—which made drizzling it over the fruit easy. And okay, maybe Ray had been right about that bottled stuff, because the chocolate sauce was so good Crow Horse didn’t even complain about having fruit for dessert.

When they were done, Crow Horse went to do the dishes, but Ray stopped him, a hand on his arm.

“Let’s leave it,” he said. He picked up the bottle of chocolate sauce, still about half full, and headed down the hall, giving Crow Horse a look that told him he was meant to follow.

Crow Horse followed Ray to the bedroom. Ray was already stripped when he got there, sitting on the bed, watching him. The bottle of chocolate sauce was on the bedside table, next to the lube.

“Ray, what—?”

“Take your clothes off,” Ray said, his voice soft, almost questioning. Talking about sex, even during sex, made him real uncomfortable, which Crow Horse usually found highly entertaining, but right now Ray looked so inviting that he laid off making fun and just got undressed. Then he climbed onto the bed next to Ray.

Ray pressed him back into the pillows, straddling him at the waist. Ray leaned down and kissed him, slow, the kind of kiss you could get lost in. Ray loved being kissed; he loved getting lost in it, and Crow Horse was only too happy to oblige. They were both flushed and out of breath when they broke it off, and Crow Horse studied Ray, how dark his eyes looked with the dilated pupils crowding out the irises, the flush spread over his cheeks and chest, the tiny tremble of his plush mouth as he breathed in and out, heavy breaths. Crow Horse rested his hands around Ray’s waist, his fingers dipping into the dimples where Ray’s pelvis met his spine.

Ray reached over to the bedside table and picked up the little squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce. Crow Horse frowned.

“Honey, what are you doin’ with that?”

Ray blushed fiercely, his eyes averted, teeth biting into the flesh of his bottom lip.

Crow Horse chuckled. “Oh. Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

Ray chanced a hesitant look at him. “Is it—is it okay? I mean, I’ve never—”

Crow Horse used his hold on Ray’s waist to pull him forward; he leaned up and kissed him. “It’s great, _kola_. Please.”

Ray almost smiled. “Lay back.”

Crow Horse made himself comfortable, lounging against the pillows. Ray watched him, moving the bottle back and forth between his hands. When he was satisfied that Crow Horse was settled, Ray squeezed the bottle over his chest, dripping a long ribbon of chocolate sauce onto Crow Horse’s chest. Ray kept his eyes locked on Crow Horse’s as he bent down and licked the chocolate from his skin. Crow Horse groaned, fisting Ray’s short hair; the sensation of Ray’s mouth on him was one thing, but the eye contact was torture. Ray liked to watch him; he liked to see Crow Horse’s reactions to the things he did to him. Crow Horse had never been with a lover who had been so involved in his responses; he didn’t know if it was part of Ray’s analytical bent, his second nature collecting intel, or if it spoke to how much Ray cared about him, but he suspected it was a little of both.

Ray and the chocolate sauce traveled southerly, Ray’s tongue tracing a line down Crow Horse’s central longitude. The flat blades of Ray’s teeth pinched lightly at the skin of Crow Horse’s abdomen, and he shivered, his fingers tightening in Ray’s hair. Crow Horse could see dark spots beneath the skin as blood rushed to the places Ray had bitten. Ray kissed over the teeth marks, and rubbed the spots with his fingers until the color went back to normal.

Ray pressed a kiss to Crow Horse’s hip, and then he squirted some chocolate sauce out of the bottle and onto the tips of his fingers. He held Crow Horse’s gaze as he rubbed the chocolate over the head of Crow Horse’s cock, and down the underside of the shaft. They lost eye contact as Ray slowly drew his tongue over the head of Crow Horse’s cock; Crow Horse collapsed back into the pillows, unable to support his own weight any longer, and the only thing he could see from this position was the ceiling.

Ray took Crow Horse fully in his mouth, and Crow Horse’s hand tightened in Ray’s hair so hard Ray made a little squeak. Crow Horse let him go, rested his hand instead on the back of Ray’s head, not pushing him along in his rhythmic movement, exactly, just bobbing along with him.

Ray approached sex the same way he did everything else: with drive, thoroughness, and laser focus. This concerned Crow Horse a little, because sex was supposed to be fun, and Ray had trouble loosening up, but damned if it didn’t make for one hell of a blowjob. Crow Horse felt arousal tingling under his skin, felt his breaths become shorter and shorter. He started lifting his hips, thrusting into Ray’s mouth. Ray didn’t like when he did that, it made him feel out of control and he wasn’t a hundred percent in control of his gag reflex yet, but Crow Horse couldn’t help himself. Ray moaned a little, but he didn’t pull back, though his hands did tighten down on Crow Horse’s hips, the pads of his fingers digging into Crow Horse’s ass. But Crow Horse could barely feel it, because his whole body was alive with sensation, and he was pushing into Ray’s mouth, against the heat and wetness and the wily, thick muscle of his tongue, and he was coming, his vision flooding with stars like a cartoon character who had taken an anvil to the head.

Crow Horse panted, muscles limp, head spinning. He looked up to see Ray sitting up, wiping his red, swollen lips with the back of his hand. Ray caught Crow Horse’s eyes on him and smiled. Crow Horse reached for him, and Ray fit himself into Crow Horse’s embrace, let Crow Horse pull him down for a kiss. Maybe it was narcissistic, but Crow Horse loved tasting himself on Ray. Ray made himself comfortable laying against Crow Horse, and Crow Horse ran his hand lazily over Ray’s shoulders, looking at Ray’s blood-dark lips, his flushed cheeks.

“God, honey, you look so good.”

Crow Horse didn’t know if Ray wasn’t used to receiving compliments, or what it was, but when he got one, his whole face lit up like it was the first one of his life. Crow Horse chuckled, and kissed him again. He gave Ray’s backside a little pat.

“All right. My turn.”

Ray’s brow creased. Crow Horse held out his hand; after a beat, Ray handed him the bottle of chocolate sauce.

Crow Horse nodded to the other side of the bed. “Over there. On your belly.”

Ray hesitated a moment, and Crow Horse smacked him on the haunch, with just enough sting to be motivating. Ray flinched more out of annoyance than in response to the pain, and did as he was told, climbing off Crow Horse and arranging himself on his stomach. Crow Horse spent a moment admiring he long, lean shape of him, his free hand running over Ray’s lovely body, before positioning himself atop him.

Crow Horse squeezed the bottle over Ray’s back, dripping chocolate sauce along the line of his spine. He bent over Ray, his hair tickling Ray’s back, making the little muscles twitch, and slowly licked the chocolate up. Ray shivered, and gasped.

Crow Horse chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking: this stuff tastes better on you than it did on dessert.”

Ray moaned, and pushed himself against the mattress, one long thrust.

Crow Horse patted his thigh, and inched down Ray’s body. He squeezed some chocolate out over Ray’s ass, rubbed at it with his fingers, smearing the liquid over Ray’s skin. Ray panted.

Crow Horse sucked the chocolate off his own fingertips. “You ain’t gonna last at this rate, honey. Start thinkin’ about baseball or something.”

Ray moaned again, something buried in there about Mike Flanagan’s ERA. Crow Horse chuckled, and bent over him, his tongue dabbing at the sweet, sticky chocolate. Crow Horse let his tongue dip into the cleft of Ray’s ass, teasingly slow. Ray bucked against the mattress, a whine tearing from his throat.

“Shh, shh,” Crow Horse said. “Easy, now. Easy.”

Crow Horse bent over him again, using his hands to spread Ray open, using his mouth to tease him. Ray’s breath started coming shallow; his hands white-knuckled around the blankets. He writhed against the bed, finally slipping a hand beneath himself to take care of his erection; the friction from thrusting against the mattress wasn’t enough.

Crow Horse briefly considered using the chocolate sauce as lube, then decided against it. He reached over Ray to the bedside table for the actual lube. Usually it lived in the top drawer of the bedside table; Ray had gotten it out before they’d begun, because if Ray loved anything, it was being prepared. It was one of those little things Crow Horse had rolled his eyes at, at first, but now loved as something that was intrinsically Ray.

Crow Horse squeezed some lube out onto his fingertips. He spread Ray open again, and rubbed his slick fingers over his hole. Ray pushed up against the pressure, and Crow Horse wormed one finger inside him, then another. Ray stopped touching himself, and got up on his hands and knees for better leverage, fucking himself on Crow Horse’s fingers. The sight was too much for Crow Horse. He withdrew his fingers, greased himself—hard again already, Jesus, what did Ray _do_ to him?—and guided himself inside Ray. Ray moaned—throaty and _loud_ , the sound going straight to Crow Horse’s groin—as Crow Horse started to move inside him, as Crow Horse leaned over, wrapping a hand around Ray’s cock and helping him home, too.

And Ray was literally begging for it, the words dropping out of his mouth like he was reciting the rosary. “Oh, God, God, _Walter_ , please—please, Walter, I want—I want—I want—oh, _please_ —”

It proved more than Crow Horse could take, and soon all his senses were graying out, fading away; every cell of his body, in that moment, was completely focused on his release. He lit up like a firework, one beautiful burst of pure, glorious sensation, and then fell limp, the spark animating him extinguished.

In his post-orgasmic haze, Crow Horse heard Ray crying out his name as he came, and then suddenly the two of them were collapsed together on the bed, a jumble of sweat-slick limbs, Crow Horse’s hair veiling them.

“Christ,” Ray panted.

Crow Horse laughed, and pressed a kiss to Ray’s shoulder. Ray moved beneath him, turning onto his back. Crow Horse settled down atop him, finding perfect purchase, the spot where they just fit together. It was probably because he was blonde, but after sex, Ray always looked absolutely debauched, pink and sweating; normally pale eyes dark with overblown pupils; hair a wild, gold halo. He caught Crow Horse’s eye, and smiled, and Crow Horse felt a violent swell of emotion take over him, so strong he felt weak in his bones, powerless.

The thing was, finding out the hidden things about Ray could surprise Crow Horse, but the hidden things that Ray brought out of Crow Horse himself, that was something else. Because maybe it was crazy that Crow Horse was trying to keep pace with a boyfriend nearly ten years his junior, a mostly white guy who got twenty dollar haircuts and couldn’t even name the seven bands of the Lakota without tripping over his timid, stiff English tongue. And maybe it was crazier to be in love with the guy—true, weak in the knees, hole in the heart when you’re gone, I’ll take care of you when you’re sick love. Because Crow Horse had never had a vision, so he missed some things coming until they were right on top of him, and damned if this whole Ray thing hadn’t just snuck up on him.

“You okay?” Ray asked. He twirled a strand of Crow Horse’s hair around his finger, idly.

Crow Horse kissed him, one of those long, lingering kisses you could get lost in. He pushed Ray’s damp hair off his forehead, got a good look at him.

“I’ve decided,” he said deliberately, “that you should cook more often.”

Ray laughed.  



End file.
